The Dream Crafter(14)

The path before her… Nakoa would be free. Nakoa would be at her side. She willed every part of her to surround that thought, embrace it, use it to push down the terror clawing inside her throat at even the suggestion of truly using her powers again.

Nakoa would be free. Nakoa would be at her side.

She opened up the envelope and pulled out the first page, to see his picture staring up at her.





Chapter Seven




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No choice, pounded the refrain through her head, a loop of constant syllables drilling itself deeper and deeper into her brain. No choice, because your brother will be free. No choice, because it meant no more running, no more hating herself for failing once again. No choice, no choice, no choice.

His eyes were so blank in the picture, hooded as she had never seen them in the dreams. His dimple was on display, but here it was a shield, a decoy, not a display of pleasure as it had been when they were together.

Throwing his picture on the table, she curled into a ball, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her head against the sharp planes of bone.

There wasn’t much information given to her in those few pages, so either they didn’t know much about him, or this was all they believed she needed for the job. Her guess would be the latter, considering the majority of the file were pictures of the man. She would hope the Guild would have a better database on such a well-known opponent.

Though if he was so good they were using her as a sneaky way to get to him, maybe he was an enigma. They referred to him as Merc in one of the bullet points from the short one page bio, and wouldn’t they at least give her his first name if they knew it?

The other facts were stingy as well. Those tattoos she longed to touch were magical, though the paper didn’t give specifics. Their second meeting he had looked down and over the tattoos on his arm, and with this knowledge that action now made sense. The tattoos must have some degree of magical protection or detection, and he was making sure she wasn’t using anything to enter his dream.

Nice to know she was powerful enough that one of the most feared warriors of the realms was fooled. Her laugh became a choked sob, and she pulled her legs tighter into her body, willing her heartbeat to slow and taking deep breaths to achieve the action.

Couldn’t the gods give her any peace? Why did they have to destroy even this one ray of light in her world?

She rocked like a small child comforting herself, pressing her face hard into her legs to hold back the tears that gathered behind her eyes. Her body shuddered under the weight and strain, small jerky movements she couldn’t contain, sobs building in her throat she swallowed hard against. She stayed there, eyelids tight, body shaking, mind blanked by pure dint of will.

Endless time passed. Shivers passed. Thoughts. Passed. She was an empty vessel, and opening her eyes, there was the shape of the dream surrounding her, the weight of the nightly world familiar, oh so familiar to her.

He…Merc…was a stranger. Her brother was blood. It was time to let this go.

The choice was made. Living with it would be a different story, but now she would get her brother free.

Time to find the mercenary and put an end to this damnable dream.





Chapter Eight




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This time, Merc didn’t look at his arms when she appeared. His smile was easy and his body relaxed a fraction. “I was wondering if I’d see you tonight.”

“I couldn’t stay away.” They were back on the beach, but now it was moonlit, the reflection on the water bright and clear, the moon big enough to cause the briefest of shudders, as if it could crash into the water on the horizon. A perfect night for lovers to stroll together, hand in hand, lost in each other.

Tonight he wore a leather jacket, and tonight he wrapped that jacket around her, putting his arm over her shoulder and pulling her close as they walked the silent stretch of sand.

Though this would end in betrayal, Amana would hold onto this last meeting. She would surround herself in him, absorb him, until that final moment where she would have to let him go. She snuggled closer, nestling her cheek against the hard wall of chest. “How was your day, dear?”

“Could’ve been worse,” he replied, humor in the tone. “It would have been if I hadn’t seen you.”

“That was almost too sweet. Warn me next time so I don’t go into sugar shock.” Did her voice waver? Was that the right amount of tart, or did it go into bitter? No, stop, enjoy this. Enjoy this until it has to end.

They stopped to look over the waves, and he fitted her into him so he could rest his chin on her head. “I’ll remember that.”

Walking the beach at night was always her favorite. As much as she enjoyed the daytime energy, it was the calm dark of the night that always soothed her soul, brought her peace. At night, it was only her and the moon, the mist of the ocean and the warm, gentle breeze. It was freedom with no judgment, no well-meaning but sharp-tongued relatives to poke at her family yet again.